


Headliner

by Nirmalneaners



Series: unofficially official [10]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce is confused, Cameras, Champagne, Clark Is So Done, Developing Relationship, Drama, Established Relationship, Fake Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV Bruce, Playboy Bruce Wayne - Freeform, Tie pulling, boobs, gala - Freeform, jelousy, persona - Freeform, poor girl is caught in the middle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:04:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16325885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nirmalneaners/pseuds/Nirmalneaners
Summary: "I don't understand what's going on right now with you," He said lowly, "But you need to sort yourself out or this will be over."He stared at the floor in silence for some time before responding, his hand falling from his face. He didn't look up to Bruce. "What will be over?""Us."





	Headliner

He watched, eyes sharp as he cut through the crowd to land on his cause of curiosity. Of course, _he calls_ it curiosity, but he could practically _hear_ Alfred muttering paranoia as if the man was stood next to him. He never could quite find it in himself to disagree, but he never exactly _agreed_ on that statement either. So for the sake of a stalemate, he'll settle on calling it interest. Yes, he was watching his _cause of interest_. One Clark Joseph Kent.  
  
Clark was talking to someone, who he wasn't sure, but he was smiling and laughing every now and then when it seemed warranted. He was playing his part in their charade now that he was no longer reporting, but being reported on. Commonwealth finding his place amongst the elite and Bruce had to admit he was doing quite well considering his origins. He guessed it had to with the exposure from covering such events for all these years, and from what he had observed Clark had an uncanny knack for picking things up at a disquietening rate. As with many things the man does, it fascinated him how Clark would move around the room like one of them, yet adding in such minute differences to his performance that people would subconsciously declass him from the rest.  
  
His eyes slit a little more as the man excused himself, leaving Clark alone to sip on his flute of champagne. He resisted the urge to sip on his own when he saw his smile instantly drop into a tired look as he seemed to almost blend himself into the patterned wall behind. Bruce didn't like it, _that look_ on Clark. It didn't sit right with him and he shifted slightly in agitation, then shifted back again in annoyance when he realized he had reacted visibly.  
  
There was a- not exactly sadness, more an... _anxious_ look that clung to the man. He wasn't too sure on that either if he were honest with himself, Clark had always been somewhat of an enigma when it came to his deductions, but as he finished off his champagne and bit his lip Bruce decided he may have been right after all. He also knew Clark had his position pinpointed. He learned long ago that he had memorized his heartbeat, something that once unsettled him to no end, but he seemed to be looking everywhere _Bruce was not_. He could have put it down to coincidence, but with Alfred's voice drifting back into his mind, he knew it was his _interest_ at work here.  
  
And his interest had been nagging him since he started to notice a distinct difference in Clark's behavior. It was a change that went against everything he had written on file, and if for a man like himself, to have a pined down personality suddenly change was not a good variable in the works of life. It threw him off balance, made an old habit of obsession resurface that distracted him and slowly bled into every compartment of his life the longer it went on. Before it was an interest, but after his actions at the planet? Bruce was left concerned. He didn't like the implications of what that meant, and he would certainly never admit it out loud, but he and Clark worked together like it was a dance they both harbored in their muscle memory, yet never trained for. Somehow, despite their different methods he couldn't deny they flowed together like a calm current, they became _better_. But now that current was being interrupted and he couldn't figure out _why_. Of course, despite the snide words from other leaguers towards him at Clarks change in behavior he wasn't _stupid_ , he had an inkling at _what_ had changed, or rather _what was changing_ Clark. Working so closely with someone you respect was bound to bring forth feelings, he just didn't understand why Clark didn't console in him like he usually did. He was going against a normal pattern. It infuriated him, left him on edge in a way he found himself slinking forward towards the man before he even realized he took a step.

He adapted his walk, made sure to keep himself slow and a little off balance to spill his drink every now and then, yet effortlessly slipping through the gaps between chatting socialites as he got closer. He turned to slink through two men, Clark pinned in his vision when suddenly he was wrapped tightly in two arms, the shock leaving him repressing the urge not to grab their hand and twist them into an arm lock as a high pitched voice rang in his ear-  
  
_"Brucie baby!"_  
  
It took more effort than he would like not to shut his eyes and sigh, it took even more not to scowl at the slip up of even being caught off guard in the _first place_. He kept his eyes on Clark for a few more seconds, a split moment debating whether to just carry on forward and ignore her before he turned to look down at the young woman and adapted his face into one of Bruce Waynes signature grins.  
  
"How long has it been I wonder?" His nose crinkled at the assault of perfume, and he took in the bright blonde hair and large lips as they came up to his face to kiss him on the cheek. He knew by the amount of red lipstick she had smeared on there would be lip marks in her wake. "Too long by my count!"  
  
What was her name? Chloe, Karen? He couldn't remember, it was something along those lines though he was sure. "Darling, how nice to see you again."  
  
"You never called me back, Brucie." she pouted playfully, her chest pushing into him a little too suggestively. One arm uncoiled from his waist and she raised it, stroking her index finger down from his throat to the middle of his chest. He cringed internally at the scrape of her nails on his skin. "That wasn't very nice."  
  
"Oh sweetheart, it totally slipped my mind." he purred, snaking his hand to rest on her hip. "I do hope you won't hold it against me."  
  
She laughed, a slow rumble he could feel through his suit that he _presumed_ was meant to have the effect of sexiness. "Oh, I won't hold _that_ against you." her eyes flicked down, and he followed suit to look at her cleavage. He let his smile grow wider as she looked back up to him. He took his time to meet her eyes, allowing her to see he had caught the innuendo. " _Oh_ , but a little birdie told me you have been taken off the market Brucie, I do hope it's not true."  
  
He tried not to scoff at that, what with _little birdie_ being 15 major newspapers and tv stations across two cities alone. He took a sip of his flute instead, "Oh I'm afraid it is,"  
  
"Where is he?" she asked, her fingers gripping onto the inside of his Suit. "If you were mine I couldn't bear to let you out of my sight!"  
  
Bruce looked over to the spot Clark had been to find it worryingly vacant. "Oh he's around here somewhere," He looked around, making a show of squinting his eyes as she watched him, using it to try and pinpoint his new location. When he couldn't find him he eventually returned to look at her with a strained smile. "Probably gone to the toilet, not much of a drinker you see."  
  
"Oh, _such a shame_ ," he could tell from her tone alone she was more than smitten with the idea of getting him alone. _Shame indeed._ "Say, do you remember our night together?"  
  
"I couldn't forget those curves even if I tried."  
  
"You are naughty, _Bruice._ " She giggled again, releasing his suit to snake her hand up to his collar. He felt the tug as she pulled him down and followed, felt the uncomfortable feeling of her hot breath against his ear. "When you are through with him, we should repeat it sometime."  
  
_Ahem._  
  
He felt as she stiffened against him, a hitch in her breath by his ear in surprise at the interruption. A small genuine smile tugged at his lips at her reaction, and he pulled back to grin at Clark.  
  
"There you are, we were just talking about you!" Clark never tore his eyes away from the girl, and Bruce too turned to look at her. She looked Clark up and down with her nose wrinkled up. "Sweetheart, this is Clark."  
  
She released his collar, sticking her hand out a little too aggressively to be taken as friendly. "Pleasure, _I'm sure._ " she sneered.  
  
Clark blatantly ignored her hand, his lips pulled down into a sharp frown as his eyes never strayed. The hand hovered for a few more seconds before it slowly lowered back to her side awkwardly, a hint of uncertainty etching into her face as she flicked her eyes to Bruce in question. He carried on smiling, never showing any hint he picked up on the hostile atmosphere. He flicked his eyes to Clark, a small squint in question at the rudeness. Clark not shaking someone's hand? It left Bruce feeling off, his gut feeling having a wrongness to it.  
  
"I think you're touching things that don't belong to you, don't you agree?"  
  
She hesitated, but Bruce felt as her arm slowly slipped from his waist as she looked around, and he too noticed the prying eyes with a creeping worry.  
  
"We were just catching up about old times, isn't that right Brucie?"  
  
Clark jaw tensed at the nickname and Bruce shifted slightly.  
  
"Yes dear, indeed we were." he agreed, albeit a little more awkwardly than he would have liked. But he had he felt the current change. It was a strange feeling, they both slipped into this dance but he started to feel out of rhythm.  
  
"Hmm, I see. Has he said your name atol?"  
  
Bruce's eyes widened a fraction in Alarm as she furrowed her brows in confusion. _What the fuck are you doing, kent?_  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
"Clark, I think you have had _one too many_ , why don't we head home?" he chuckled, bleeding in a warning tone he knew Clark would pick up on.  
  
And would apparently ignore. "I only ask as he has introduced me to you, but he never said your name," Clark paused, flicking his eyes over her as she looked at him in suspicion. When he spoke again his voice sounded humorous, but it was twisted into an unkind way. "it's almost like he can't actually remember, _isn't it?_ "  
  
And just like that their usual dance was over as Clark changed the steps, dancing to a new rhythm as Bruce was left to try and Catch up. Except he couldn't. He was frozen staring into an angry face as the girl all but growled at him, the sound of a glass smashing and realizing _it was his_ , and then he was colliding against Clarks back with a sharp tug, a shout leaving his lips as he realized Clark had grabbed his tie and was _dragging_ _him_ through the parting crowd. He stumbled, hands flailing as his body tried to right itself but never quite getting the purchase under his feet to stop them sliding against the floor with a squeak instead of stepping. His head craned to this side awkwardly as his neck ached from the tie cutting in, and he was left to look into the faces of everyone staring at them until they left the hall entirely.  
  
Clark still didn't relent even as they went down the steps at the front of the building, and Bruce was forced to grip onto his shoulders and squeeze his eyes shut against the onslaught of Camera flashes and the shouting of _Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne!_ as he stumbled down the stairs, his cheek pressed into the cheap material of Clarks Blazer. It wasn't until they pulled into a dark alley that Clark finally released his tie, and the only reason he didn't fall flat on his face was that he was still clinging onto him.  
  
"What the hell was that?" He spat, releasing his shoulders. Clark whirled around to face him, their chests inches apart as Bruce glared at him. He raised his arm, pointing back out of the alley as he snarled, "Do you realize the damage you have just caused? That little stunt is going to be all over the fucking news!"  
  
Clark said nothing, his lips thinning as he stared back.  
  
"What were you even _thinking_!" he continued, anger seething. He knew his suit was a mess, his tie left hanging low in a tight knot and ruined, it would have to be thrown out. The thought of it just made his anger worse. "Don't you _dare_ do that to me again, Clark."  
  
"You made a fool out of me in there." was hissed back, and the way he said it so quietly, almost threateningly had his hair standing up on edge as his jaw snapped shut with an audible click. His nose made a sniffing sound as Clark leaned forward, and the lines etched deeper into his face. "You stink of her."  
  
Bruce couldn't believe what he was hearing. _"So what?"_  
  
"You were all over her, everyone was fucking watching!" was shouted back in his face. Clark leaned until their chests touched as he pointed towards the wall, eyes tainted with the faintest red sheen. "I can hear them talking now!"  
  
He resisted the urge to swallow, suppressing his fight or flight instincts as he stared into Clark's eyes. "Why does it _bother you_ so much?"  
  
"Because we are meant to _be together_!"  
  
"But we're not."  
  
It seemed with those three words something shifted again. Clark stepped back, rubbing a hand against his jaw harshly as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was as if all the anger suddenly dissipated, and he was left with the same tired look as he had earlier in the night. It left Bruce feeling Jarred as if he had missed something important, something that should be obvious but he couldn't quite pin it so he was left standing there, his arms hanging loosely by his side as a horrid feeling filled him that somehow that look, all of tonight, _was his fault._ The feeling felt oddly like guilt.  
  
He breathed in deep, shut his eyes and released a long sigh as he opened them again. Clark stared at the floor now, his hand still covering his mouth as he breathed. He looked _done_ , and Bruce didn't even really understand what he _meant_ by that, but somehow it was the only fitting way to describe it.  
  
"I don't understand what's going on right now with you," He said lowly, "But you need to sort yourself out or this will be over."  
  
He stared at the floor in silence for some time before responding, his hand falling from his face. He didn't look up to Bruce. "What will be over?"  
  
" _Us._ This cover."  
  
He looked then, eyes wide as he gaped.  
  
_"What?"_  
  
"Clark, I told you when you came to me with the idea of a fake relationship that Bruce Wayne isn't just flirting with people he likes, flirting is his _personality_. And you looked me in the eyes and said you were fine with that, you understood that it was a tool I use in the field. You were fine with it two months ago so I don't understand what has changed, or why you are acting the way you are this particular night that has changed your stance on that, but I will not tolerate you jeopardizing _my work_ because of your own emotional outbursts."  
  
The look of utter anguish on his face forced Bruce to close his eyes against it tightly, his hands closing to form tight fists as his breath came out shakily through his nose. Some irrational part of him couldn't stand to see his face like that and he forced the next words out quietly.

"Don't bother coming to the manor until you are ready to discuss what has been affecting you."

 He felt a phantom ache in his chest as a gust of wind and the telltale sonic boom of Clark's sudden departure registered.  
  
When he eventually opened his eyes again it felt wrong to see an empty alley in front of him.


End file.
